


30 Days of Smut - Day 13 : Quickie

by casey270



Series: 30 Days of Smut [13]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey270/pseuds/casey270
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Success born of failure</p>
            </blockquote>





	30 Days of Smut - Day 13 : Quickie

They’re supposed to be onstage in fifteen minutes, and he’s still got his pants around his ankles. Fucking hell, why did he start this now? Sure, he’d felt a little needy before, and he knows it’s hard as hell to try and play a good show hard, but hindsight being what it is, he figures he probably should have sucked it up and waited until after. 

There’s no turning back, though. He’s past the point of no return. He’s hard and ready, but he just _can’t_ come. He tries overhand and underhand; he tries fast and slow and even the double-slick specialty move that’s never failed him before, but all he’s getting out of it is the not so nice feeling of friction burn tinged with desperation. 

He’s wondering how he’s going to be able to get a message to anyone that he’s not gonna be onstage when he hears the doorknob turning. _Shit, shit, shit! Why the hell didn’t he remember to lock the fucking door?_ This day just keeps getting better and better and so much worse.

He wants to run and hide, but even if there were somewhere to go, he wouldn’t be able to make it there. He’s like a deer in the headlights, standing there, mouth open, dick in his hands, and he really wants to crawl under the rug right about now.

He finally manages to close his mouth and look through the hair that’s fallen across his face to see who picked the most embarrassing time in his life to walk in on him - because this is even worse than when his mom caught him jacking off when he was thirteen; at least he could blame puberty and youth for that one.

And shouldn’t he have just fucking expected it to be Adam standing there? Yeah, who else would he want to see him like this than his boss? Adam doesn’t look like he’s planning on leaving anytime soon, either, so Tommy asks him if maybe he could, like, shut the door or something? Because he really doesn’t want more of an audience than he already has.

“Sorry, Tommy.” He almost feels sorry for Adam, because he looks even more embarrassed than Tommy feels. “I needed something in here, but I can come back in a few minutes.” 

Adam’s just about to back out the door when Tommy tells him, “ ‘s okay. Few minutes aren’t gonna make any difference. Might as well get what you need.” 

Maybe Adam notices the pained look on his face then, or maybe he just notices the sorry state of his dick, all red and hard and irritated. Whatever it is, before he knows what’s happening, Adam’s on his knees in front of him, holding his abused cock in his hands. “Poor baby. You need some TLC, don’t you?”

He’s about to answer when he realizes that Adam’s not talking to him. Well, not all of him, anyway. Adam’s talking to his dick, and that makes it easier to accept for some fucked up reason. 

It definitely makes it easier to be okay with feeling Adam’s warm, wet tongue running up and down it, putting out the fire of irritation he’d managed to ignite. And when Adam pulls the whole thing into his mouth, closing his lips around the base, he has no problem letting his head fall back while he hears himself moan.

It doesn’t take more than a few times of Adam doing that before he feels the familiar tightening that he was chasing before. And how the fuck can Adam’s mouth do that? He does have enough presence of mind to keep himself from thrusting, and he lets Adam know when he’s gonna come, because Adam’s gotta go onstage soon, and who wants to be a singer with a ruined throat? Besides, he likes to think he’s just considerate that way. 

He manages to pull out just in time, and only messes up his hand and little bit of carpeting. The relief is enough to make his knees buckle, though. He actually sees flashes of light and shit, and he thinks if he has a heart attack right now, at least he’ll die a happy man. 

But Adam holds him up and steadies him until he can take care of himself again. Then Adam hands him a tissue to clean himself off with and even pulls up his pants for him. He thinks he’s gonna get out of this without any more embarrassment when Adam picks up a makeup brush from the counter, and turns to go, but nothing in life is that easy, right?

Adam walks back over to him and pats his fucking dick like it’s a stray puppy or something, and says, “You really should take better care of the little guy, you know? You're gonna want him around for a long time.”


End file.
